


Crowley and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

by whichstiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, silly things, too silly really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 14:23:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7442578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whichstiel/pseuds/whichstiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little story written for this prompt on Fandomnatural: </p><p>"Crowley and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crowley and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

The bar floozy from last night turned out to be a hunter and the underside of the mattress had a devil's trap on it and the bitch stole my wallet and best coat and I woke to a minion standing outside the trap just laughing at me and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

Last night at my palace the court drank all the good whiskey and someone etched “Crowley Sux” on the table and the kitchen was only serving dead meatsuits _and_ they were burned and my second best coat had a hole in the pocket. I think I'll move to Australia.

I zapped to Miami to follow up a lead on Rowena and landed in the middle of dog shit and said dog immediately took a piss on my leg and not even obliterating the rat-dog in front of its squealing spandex-clad owner could shake the feeling: I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

Rowena was long gone but had left behind several anti-demon hex bags, a devil's trap in the doorway, and joke-shop grade itching powder raining down all over my second best coat from a bucket rigged to the door. A minion appeared outside the trap and just stood laughing at me until he let me out. When I exploded him his guts got all over my second best coat and destroyed the shine on my shoes. I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

Back at the palace, members of the council confronted me about soul numbers. “You're a terrible king of Hell,” they said. “A hamster could run it better,” they said. I couldn't destroy them because I needed the support of their factions. I pulled out the third best rum. “I hope you sit on a tack,” I said to them. “I hope the next time you take a drink your dick falls off and lands in Australia.”

Pudding in the kitchen was devil's food cake. I hate devil's food cake. It smelled like burned hair. My phone buzzed with a message from Dean Winchester: “Get your ass over here, Crowley.” A minion saw it and just stood there laughing at me. It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. 

That's what it was, because when I dropped in to see what Moose and Squirrel wanted they asked me what my demons were up to. “Your demons are fucking shit up all over the world,” they said. “Get your shit together, Crowley. Or we'll use the demon tablet to tear your kingdom to pieces.” “Next week,” I said, “I'm going to Australia.”

I grabbed a bottle of whiskey from their hotel mini bar and zapped back out to the council. “What the hell is going on in Hell?” I asked them. “It should be simple. Contract. Ten years. Soul. What in the bloody hell is everybody's problem?” The council just stood there and laughed so I fished for the bottle of booze. It must have fallen out of the hole in the pocket of my second best coat. “I am having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day,” I told everybody. No one even answered. 

I decided to go make some crossroads deals to cheer myself up but both prospects got cold feet at the last minute. I zapped to a delux hotel room to relax and turned on the TV. One of my demons appeared on a talk show in Australia and flashed black eyes at the audience. “Let me tell you about Hell,” she said. I rolled my eyes and drank my way through the mini bar. The alcohol was warm. It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. 

I zapped back to the council and asked who was responsible for that breach. “Deals only work,” I growled, “when people don't know how bad Hell is – or that it even exists!” The council just stood there and laughed and high fived each other. They told me they're ready to watch it all burn and nobody is going to stop them. It has been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. 

Olivette the Hamster says some days are like that. 

Even in Australia.

**Author's Note:**

> Let's all ignore the fact that the Winchesters would never stay anywhere so swanky as to have a mini bar.


End file.
